Pine Cove

For two separate weeks this month the boys have spent their time at three of Pine Cove's many summer camps. If you don't know Pine Cove already, you should. Established in 1968, it is now one of the largest and most well-respected Christian camps in Texas, if not farther afield. For us, it has been and continues to be one of the best discoveries Husband and I have made as parents.

What makes it so great? What makes the boys so happy? To start with, they never sleep. Well, almost never, or so it seems. The kids are up early, the days are full, and the nights go on, well, late into the night. The boys are busy with their new friends, and as a consequence they have very little time to think of anything else. During their two weeks at camp this summer they have climbed rock walls, flew down enormous water slides, shot BBs, 22s, and bows and arrows, played soccer, flag football, war ball, paintball and lasertag, learned to sail and kayak, flew down the zip line, swam every day, gone horseback riding and mountain bike riding, flown off the Blob, and played Medieval war games (yes, everyone had a sword and helmet for that last one).

And those were just the "activities". They also had daily Bible studies, evening "club" where they could sing and dance to praise songs and then cool down by listening to a talk on spiritual "stuff". Their nights were made even longer by "theme nights", where they dressed as pirates, had dance parties, wallowed in the mud at the Buffalo Hunt, crept through the woods in full camo, and so on and so forth. See what I mean? There was very little sleeping. Lots of fun, but not a lot of time to sit back on your bunk and think about how much you miss your home or dog or mom or...

All of this activity is still balanced, if not by 10 hours in the sack each night, but by a chance to get to know their cabinmates and counselors very, very well. Each cabin has 6 to 8 kids and a full-time counselor. The camp recruits at over 140 college campuses each year, and the counselors and staff they find are phenomenal. Even after only six days, each boy's counselor knew him and had insightful and affirming things to say about him and his character. For example, today we received One's "character certificate", which reads: "[One] is analytical, allowing him to understand difficult concepts. He is firm, grounded in his beliefs. [One] is forthright." Uh, yup: that would be One. And Two's counselor this past week (very, very beloved by him) wrote: "[Two] is a compassionate young man. He is generous and willing to help others regardless of the situation. He is expressive and readily shares his joy with those around him." Oh, praise God! It is enough most of the time that we can see these qualities peeking out amidst all the wildness that two boys embody. But that a counselor who knows your child for six days can see these things, say these things - not only is it affirming for your child, but wow, what a boost as a parent! Maybe sometimes we get things right, at least some of the time.

As I write this both boys are tucked up in their beds, finally clean. Yes, they do make them shower every day at camp, but that doesn't mean they actually used soap. They came home this afternoon remarkably filthy, covered in smiles, sporting Keen sandal tans, and really, really tired. They are thrilled to be back, and even happier to be full of memories that they will keep with them for the rest of their lives. Some of those memories are of conquering the zip line despite great fear, others are of laughing hysterically with friends while trying to push each other off one of the water inflatables. Still others are deeper still, and hopefully are things that pushed their faith in God deeper into them, cemented their love for Him a little more, and made them a little more confident about going out into the world to follow His narrow path. Whatever is inside those two precious, half-feral, incredibly amazing children after these two camp sessions, I like it. I like what I see when I see what Pine Cove brings out in them: it is their best, and parents we can't ask for more than that.

Thank you, Pine Cove.

Bioethics Conference

On a completely different note from most posts on this blog ...

Check out the two-day bioethics conference coming to Houston Baptist University at the end of April. The three keynote speakers are Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant; the Orthodox speaker is St. George's own Reader Herman, otherwise known as Dr. H. Tristam Engelhardt, Jr. of Rice University. I am hoping to be there - and you should be too! Even though I am not (obviously not) in the medical field I think it will be full of interesting information and discussion. Registration is $50 (clergy and students $30).

Quote for Thursday

"These are all things which may very well be within that golden box marked “Divine Will.” ... [but] in our loneliness, we sometimes try to drag God down into our limited view of life: Black-and-white, Lord. Just tell me what to do. But just because WE see only two choices before us, let’s not forget that God is all-seeing, all-knowing. His Will is not a checklist of do’s and don’ts, but a living, fluid, powerful force that somehow, inconceivably finds its way into our puny seedling lives, nourishing us like the rain and making us grow and bear fruit."

From Simcha Fisher's latest post at the National Catholic Register. Amen.

Wisdom on an Icy Cold Night

If I had a tattoo, it should probably be this, displayed somewhere I could see it easily:

"In general, Loquacity (rambling talk) opens the doors of the soul, and the devout warmth of the heart at once escapes. Empty talk does the same, but even more so... Empty talk is the door to criticism and slander, the spreader of false rumors and opinions, the sower of discord and strife. It stifles the taste for mental work and almost always serves as a cover for absence of sound knowledge..."

---Saint Theophan the Recluse

And what does St. Theophan have to do with icy cold nights? Well, he was Russian, of course. He has absolutely nothing to do with tattoos, at least as far as I'm aware.

G'night.

Dear God

I know you use others around us to help us in our sanctification, but can you please stop using my mother in law? I think I’ve had enough. I’m pretty sure she feels the same way about me.

I know as a parent I’m supposed to model Godly behavior for my children, but can you tell the boys to look at their godparents for that more than they look to me? After all, their godfather is a priest, and their godmother – well, she’s a priest’s wife. They’re obviously much better at this stuff than I am.

Can’t you make me grow in patience a little faster? I have a lot going on and I could use some more patience, pronto.

Will self-deprecation do as a substitute for humility? I’m much better at the former than I am at the latter, you know.

Why do the Orthodox have to point out that gluttony is such a sin? Can I have a pass on that, since I was raised Protestant and they never talk about gluttony?

Quote for Thursday

"...abstaining from sinful actions and fear of suffering are not sufficient for spiritual life... only the guarding of the mind and purity of heart will free one's soul from sinful thoughts ... inner freedom can be obtained only through interior prayer and ... not through fear of the sufferings of hell or even the desire for the bliss of heaven. The holy Fathers consider even heroic deeds as the act of a hireling. They claim that the fear of suffering is the way of a slave and that desire for a reward is the way of a hireling. But God wants us to come to Him on a path of a son; motivated by love and zeal for His glory, we should conduct ourselves with honor and enjoy His saving presence in our hearts and souls."

-- from The Way of a Pilgrim

Humble Pie

We've been back to normal Orthodox fasting rules for a few weeks now - or what is really the "new normal" for us, since we've only been doing this since November. The Advent Fast ended (you guessed it) on Christmas, and we had no fasting at all until just before Theophany (aka Epiphany). Now, every Wednesday and Friday until Lent, we eat as we do during a long fast: no meat, eggs, dairy, olive oil, or wine. On days we're not fasting, I almost long for it; I think "tomorrow, when it's a fast day, I won't even think about going out for a burger for lunch, because I won't be able to." And then the fast day comes and I'm the same person I was the day before: undisciplined, short on time, and wanting a cheeseburger. Today I hauled myself dutifully from the office to Chipotle for lunch: black bean burrito with rice, pico and guacamole. The. Same. Burrito I've eaten for what seem like years but is really only since Thanksgiving. I eyed the shredded cheese intently: surely God doesn't care if I eat cheese today? And no, I don't think God cares much about cheese in particular. But He does care about obedience and self-discipline, and so I grumbled past the cheese and went without.

Tonight I heated up some vegetarian pinto beans, cooked a big pot of brown rice, and cut up an avocado. Lunch, deconstructed. I told the boys they could have whatever else they wanted to eat - they could grate cheese and make tacos or quesedillas - whatever they wanted to do. Instead, they gleefully tucked into the same meal I felt grumpy about, gobbling up bean and rice tacos like hungry peasant children, not pausing to grate cheese or ask for anything more. Their joy at the table humbled me, and for once the humility was a flavorful sauce for the plain food.

I'm thankful for children who can have joy in simplicity, and for the lessons God sends through them and so many others as we start down this path as a part of His church. We are truly saved together and damned alone - and thank God for that, too.

Lessons from the Advent Fast

This Christmas season was our family’s first experience with the Advent Fast of the Orthodox Church. We officially became Orthodox the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and started the Fast that night. For the next month we went without dairy, eggs and meat, and on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays we also went without fish and olive oil. I walked into Orthodoxy knowing this was what we would do, but I have to admit I didn’t like it very much. My still partly-Protestant brain wanted to protest: I didn’t understand why the Fast was necessary, and I refused to hear any real answers to that question very clearly.

So I grumbled my way into this, as I do into many new things. And, not so surprisingly, I almost enjoyed it and most certainly learned and grew through it. Imagine that: 2000 years of Christianity knew better than I. I know, it happens so rarely that you’re shocked. So was I.

What did I learn? What did I see that I refused to open my eyes to before? Well, more than I think I know right now. But at least thus far, I know from this experience that gluttony is a sin that shows up in every part of my life – not just food (and it is there in spades, by the way). Even though I was able to control my gluttony by participating in the Fast, I didn’t stop to think about how much money I spent to do so, or how much I was spending to celebrate Christmas. I have a long way to go on that one.

The Fast not only showed me this, but it also helped me understand how much we eat controls what else we do. While I wasn’t able to stop myself from spending, I was almost constantly conscious of my attitude toward the Fast and how I was treating others around me. That doesn’t necessarily mean I didn’t complain (I did) nor does it mean that I treated everyone as I should have (I didn’t). But I did make an effort to not let the Fast be my excuse for my bad behavior, and with that I tried to not let the complimentary excuses of tiredness and overwork be the reason I was such a witch. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. But my awareness increased, and that needed to happen.

Finally, I learned that in my desire to rebel against the Fast, I was trying to do to God what I do to everyone in my life who loves me: push Him away. I wanted to disobey, because then I would know He didn’t really love me (and sometimes to me, that makes sense). But He does love me, and He showed me what my disobedience meant, and for that I am the most grateful. An important barrier came down in that little bit of self-awareness, and I have now one less excuse with which to fool myself when I don’t want to obey, when I don’t want to hear His voice.

Tired Out

I'm worn out, so tonight it's time for a re-post. I don't have the energy for anything but. From November, 2008:


The Gift of Forgiveness:

Sometimes I think that, in order to understand the amazing nature of the gift God has given us in sending Christ to die for the forgiveness of our sins, you have to know what it feels like to not be forgiven. Not only did Christ’s sacrifice take our sin away and enable us to be in relationship with God, it also took away the crushing weight of the knowledge that we were not forgiven. I’ve learned the hard way, from very personal experience, that when you wrong someone and then own up to it – when you apologize – and forgiveness isn’t forthcoming, the weight is almost too much to bear. You feel that you, personally, cannot be made right – that you are broken by your sin and cannot be mended. The relationship is also broken, for to look into the eyes of someone to whom you have apologized and know that in their heart they can’t find forgiveness inalterably changes a relationship, if it doesn’t destroy it completely. The mistrust that the lack of forgiveness creates – the fact that both of you (the unforgiven and the unforgiving) question each others motives and fail to trust one another – is a heavy burden. So not only do you know that your wrong is bigger than their love for you, but you are forced to forever question their love from that day forward. The pain that the lack of forgiveness creates is so great – how great is our God that He has spared us from it forever!

On the Priesthood

Here are two of my favorite people in the world: Father John Salem and Father Joseph Huneycutt. This is an interview from Fr. Joseph's Ancient Faith Radio program, Orthodixie: Fr. Joseph interviewing his boss, Fr. John.

Give a listen. I promise, you'll like them, too.

Two’s Little Problem

Two has always had a problem with truth. While I can count on one hand the times One has lied to me, that is not the case with Two. He was that five year old, smeared with chocolate from his eyebrows to his chin, who insisted that he did not take the cookies – it must have been his brother. Even when confronted with his chocolate-covered face in the mirror, he would persist in his declarations of false innocence.

Now he lies, not that frequently, but just enough for it to bother me horribly. I’ve tried straight-out punishment, I’ve tried “if you tell mommy the truth, sweetheart, she will not punish you for breaking your brother’s toy.” Nothing works. Finally, I think I know why. At least, I know enough to try something else, and see if that is the solution.

I need to stop yelling at my kids. Period. Never, ever again. Why? Because Two’s lies are his attempt to make me think he’s perfect, and to avoid the punishment he knows that comes with missing the mark. And what part of the punishment does he hate the most? You guessed it: when I raise my voice. Even when I’m not saying anything exceptionally cruel (I’m usually shouting: “what on earth made you do this?” or “do you know how long this will take to clean?”) he will do anything to avoid what he calls “that mean voice”.

Oy.

So Two’s sin of lying has helped me see my sin of yelling more clearly. And yes, it is a sin. If you have a hard time thinking of it in that way, let me tell you: I would never, ever raise my voice to my husband about the trivial things that cause me to do so with the boys. That, friends, is shameful.

Tony Woodlief writes in his book, Somewhere More Holy, about the two buckets we carry around with us as parents. One contains all the good things we want to pass along to our children, and one contains all our sins – everything that we don’t want them to catch from us. I think in this instance, my yelling – obviously in the latter bucket – has been passed onto Two in a way that is causing him to do anything, even sin himself, to get away from it. This grieves me. No matter how much I like a little hollering to get my point across, I can’t in good conscience continue. If I do, not only does Two suffer “that mean voice” he also gets more and more practice lying to avoid it. That is the very last place I want to take this child.

If you happen to think of it, say a small prayer for me once in a while, as I try to (ahem) moderate my voice. And I’ll let you know if any more fish stories land at my feet, or if this is, after all, the key to keeping Two honest.

Lord have mercy.

Just Be Yourself

"... Blajeny nodded. 'Yes. You have much to learn from each other. Meanwhile, I will give each of you assignments. Charles Wallace, can you guess what yours is?' 'To learn to adapt.' 'I don't want you to change!' Meg cried. 'Neither do I,' Blajeny replied. 'Charles Wallace's problem is to learn to adapt while remaining wholly himself.'"

--- Madeleine L'Engle, A Wind in the Door

I've been thinking about this exchange ever since I re-read this book several months ago. One and I have had several talks about it and how it can apply to him: he needs to get along better with others, and if he can think about doing that in these terms, it helps (and hurts less at the same time). Today I started realizing that the truth in this passage applies to so much more than that.

Here's what I mean:

Everywhere I look, I see advice for Christian women that at heart asks them to be someone other than who they are. Be a Proverbs 31 woman, be Mary, be Martha, be Ruth - the list goes on and on. Many times the advice goes further than that and becomes "you're not a good Christian women unless you [fill in the blank: are a Proverbs 31 gal, stay home full time, have lots of children, etc]." And so the Mommy Wars come to Christian women, and many of us get wrapped up in watching how other people act, looking for the right person to be more like, and struggling to live up to some standard that doesn't fit us any more than that size 6 bikini in the Everything But Water window display.

And it's all wrong. Because just as Charles Wallace was asked to get along with others without being anyone other than himself, we are called to be ourselves as we live our lives as Christians. The one big qualifier in all that is: we are called to do so in chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility, while putting aside wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony. In other words, we are here to sin less, while being who we were born to be and living out the life God has given us. We are not meant to be like someone else, to follow their path, to mimic their actions. We are to follow God and God alone, and that means living as ourselves and using all the strength He has given us to run from sin and towards virtue.

So I am called to sin less while working full time, mothering two wild, public schooled boys, ordering too much take-out, relying heavily on my precious, perfect cleaning lady, and leaving the laundry in the living room for days at a time. You may be called to sin less while staying home full-time with six children, or you may be called to sin less while working part time, sending your three children to private school, and cooking everything from Sandra Lee's "semi-homemade" recipes. Ultimately, though, the details are less important to God than the "sin less" part of the equation. He'll help you work out the details of what daily life looks like (and remember, He gave you your own gifts, intelligence and discernment to help do that by yourself, too), but your day-to-day life doesn't have to look like mine, I don't get to judge you if it doesn't, and vice versa.

Like your mom told you when you were a teenager: just be yourself. It's who God made you, and He did that for a reason. Focus on the real reason we're here: to love and worship Him, to work every day to sin less, and to grow in virtue. On you, that will look different than it does on everyone else. Isn't that refreshing!?

Community

My friend Jenny posted a link to this excellent and funny article the other day; entitled 7 Reasons the 21st Century is Making You Miserable, it's about how we grow farther apart the more technology develops. The main reason this is so, the article opines, is that technology makes us less and less adept at dealing with difficult people, because we are able to structure our lives in such a way as to shut them out as much as possible. Technology allows us to spend time solely with those with whom we have much in common, it filters our news until we hear only our own viewpoint, and it keeps us physically isolated even in commercial transactions (don't like to shop? try it online!).

Many social scientists have made similar arguments, and I think they are all fairly valid. I also think this trend towards selective isolation makes it harder as Christians to live as God commanded us: in community with one another. We are meant to be together, rubbing shoulders with one another for better or worse. In so doing, we provide not just intentional encouragement; we also provide one another with a path to become more holy, mainly by being at one point or another the annoying thorn in another person's side. God commanded us to live together so that we might share each other's burdens, and might from time to time be the burden that another needs to seek God's grace in bearing. In so doing, this person may find patience, wisdom, self-control: all fruits of of the spirit that God wants us to exhibit. As Frederica Mathewes-Green points out in her fantastic book, The Illumined Heart, God has given each of us the people in our lives for a reason: we help in one another's theosis - the process in which God's life fills and transforms us.

As is commonly said in the Orthodox Church, we are saved together but damned alone. The Church is God's gift to us - a gift of togetherness and community in which we need to participate, to the benefit of others and ourselves as well.

Icon is Christ - Pantocrator, 'Ruler of all', Serbian monastery Hilandar, Mt.Athos, 13th century

Help in Time of Need

As I pointed out two nights ago at the end of one of my soapbox rants, I frequently need help in focusing on the positive nature of my beliefs, as opposed to my negative reactions to things in which I do not believe. A most wonderful source of such help is Ancient Faith Radio. Their thousands of podcasts are such a blessing, and never fail to educate me and calm me down, rather than stir me up to blather on sarcastically.

One of the best series I've listened to is At the Intersection of East and West, recorded as a Sunday school class taught by Dn. Michael Hyatt, President and CEO of Thomas Nelson Publishers and a Deacon at St. Ignatius Orthodox Church in Franklin, Tennessee - a church that converted together from Evangelicalism to Orthodoxy in the late 1980's (wow, huh?!). My new favorite episode is Most Holy Theotokos, Save Us: not just a discussion on Mary, but a wonderful discussion on the nature of salvation as a whole. Give it a listen; it's much, much better than my ranting and nonsense any day, believe me!

Catechism

Through a series of links tonight I found this "small children's catechism", provided by The Center for Reformed Theology and Apologetics. As you've already guessed, I don't like it. What gave it away? I know - it's easy: the words "reformed theology". My four regular readers know without a doubt that those words can turn me into a frothing maniac faster than you can say "Jean Calvin". But really, what's not to like about a catechism for little ones? Well, an example or two:

"7. What does God reveal in nature? His character, law, and wrath." Really? I thought it was his love of this world and his love of beauty. Remember the "wrath" part the next time your car gets dented by a hailstorm; God obviously has something to tell you, and you're not going to like it.

"19. What is sin? Disobedience to God's law." Law? Like Mosaic Law? I thought sin meant "missing the mark" - as in "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." We try, we fail, we pray, fast, try again, and we, through God's mercy, sin less, but we still fall short and are in desperate need of grace. Sounds better to me than "disobedience", I have to say.

"22. Why did Adam's sin affect all men? We all sinned in Adam." Oh. I thought it was because his sin brought spiritual and physical sickness and death into the world - it destroyed the perfection of the earth. Does it have to have done more than that? That alone is pretty bad.

"23. Must all men die for sin? No, God elected some to life." No comment. How exactly would you explain the doctrine of election to a small child, anyway? "Honey, it might be you, but then again it might be just your brothers. You won't know until you're dead. Good luck, little guy."

"38. What are the traits of His church? The Word, discipline, and sacraments." I thought "the Word" was a reference to the second person of the Trinity - as in John: "In the beginning was the Word..." but I know Protestants like to refer to the Bible as the "Word" and nothing else. Discipline? How about holy medicine for the soul? Healing from the wounds of sin? A hospital for those who seek after salvation? Nope. Much better to focus on the word "discipline." I'm sure that helps, especially with little children who love to be disciplined.

I know. I rant and rave, and it's the least effective way of convincing anybody of anything. It's the online equivalent of me standing up on my soapbox in the park and shouting "hey, I'm a cranky, sarcastic and hard-to-get-along-with Orthodox Christian - want to come to church with me this Sunday?" When I care about something a lot, I tend to get sarcastic and prickly; others may cry, or something similar. Yes, my tendency is a sin. Will you pray for me? And no, that wasn't sarcastic, not in the slightest.

This is the Culture of Death

I've been blogging a lot today, but (sorry, y'all) I still have more to say. I've spent the day thinking about abortion doctors who kill children every day, along with Yemeni men who consider it an affront to their manhood not to force themselves on their pre-teen wives.

What have we become as a culture? As a species? We speak of nature "red in tooth and claw", but can anyone match the bloodiness of humanity, who kills its children - when it's not raping them first?

It is so clear that for Christians, this is not our home. We are here to learn to be more holy, to be more like the One who created us. And so we are forced to witness this brutality, this shame, and even as we witness it, to love those who perpetrate it. To show them Christ even as they show us Satan himself. To cry for their victims, to shelter and love the ones who survive their wrath, and to forgive them even as Christ has forgiven us. If all of that doesn't make us holier and more like Him, I don't know what will.

But still my heart cries out: come, Lord Jesus, come.

Emerging into Nirvana

I'm shocked, simply shocked to find that the "Emergent Church", at least in the person of Brian McLaren, has degenerated its message to this in an effort to be "relevant." [Ed: it may be late, but that's a lot of sarcasm, missy. Me: shut up.]

Nor am I surprised that the Evangelical church creates such people, even as the Southern Baptists lament McLaren's very existence. When you tell people it's all up to them to interpret the Bible, everyone gets to use his own lens to do so. McLaren cares about social justice issues, so he sees that Jesus in the Bible. The Southern Baptists see Jesus dying to appease an injured God, so there is their Jesus, all ready for them to believe in.

What harm has been wrought in unmooring the Bible from the traditions of a Church whose main desire is to preserve the Truth, rather than reinvent it every few years!

Forgiveness

J. Wakeham wrote on forgiveness the other day, and what she says is so simple and yet profound:

"I finally realized that forgiving someone doesn’t mean that what they did was okay. Doesn’t mean what they did wasn’t wrong. It just means that you’re going to let it go, fly away to the Almighty Judge, the true owner of Vengeance. We don’t have to carry anyone else’s crimes. We merely sentence ourselves with unforgiveness."

Isn't that so true? And I think it points out a problem that so many people have with forgiveness. If you forget the "God part" of the equation, when someone tells you "you just need to let that go" you think to yourself "let it go where - into the ether somewhere - what?" Because really, without God, there is nowhere for your grudge, your unforgiveness to go if you decide to let go of it. If we don't have the assurance that there is the One who will sort everything out in the end, then we're tempted to hold onto anything - anything - more out of fear of having nothing left in our hands in the end. With Christ, we have so much more to grasp onto, so much Life before us, we don't need to carry anything else with us but that.

So forgive one another, as He has forgiven you! Say it out loud - let everyone know - that you release them to nothing less than the grace and love of our Savior!

Worshipping God

I've been thinking about this post on and off all day - I read this article in the Houston Chronicle this morning. If you don't want to click through to the article (and you should, at least to see the photograph in question), here is the beginning of the piece:

"The elders at Ecclesia Church were expecting something tame from Jackson Potts II for their annual Stations of the Cross art display. Instead, the 10-year-old produced a photo of his kid brother being beaten by a police officer. Jackson says it's a modern-day interpretation of Roman soldiers beating Jesus."

I have a lot to say about this article, while is why this post kept cooking in my head all day. On the other hand, I know people at the church in the story - dear, sweet, loving people, who I wouldn't want to hurt by saying things that may be misinterpreted as deliberately cruel.

But I have to say something. And it is this:

When you think it's a good idea to constantly come up with new and different ways of worshipping the Uncreated God, this is where it lands you. When you pick and choose from one tradition, another tradition, invent some things of your own - you are making up church out of this world, and the Church is not created with the things of this world. It is the body of Christ, and was created by Him for the purpose of worshipping Him and Him alone. It is not a vehicle for self-expression, or self-invention; it is where the faithful from both sides of the veil of life gather together each week to praise and worship the only One truly deserving of it.

I know I'm not saying this as well as many others could, but I thought it was a point worth making all the same.

Prayer for the Beginning of Lent

O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of slothfulness, discouragement, lust of power, and vain talk.

But give rather to me the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to thy servant.

Yea, O Lord and king, grant me to see my own errors and not to judge my brother; For thou art blessed always. Now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen

--- St. Ephraim the Syrian

(One studied this in Sunday school this week)